Mirror Pox
by Poecilotheria
Summary: Dark has caught a nasty case of Mirror Pox, and it is up to Meta to care for him.


"What are you doing in here?" Meta snapped, glaring at the man currently occupying his bed. Dark looked up from where he was lying, and Meta started a little at his appearance. He looked disheveled and miserable, and there was a sheen of sweat covering his body. Dark's usual outfit was gone, replaced with silken pajamas that were presumably extremely expensive. Most remarkably Dark had strange tiny black spots dotting his face and hands, with a few areas where they'd clustered densely.

"Wow, I thought you were never going to come here," Dark said, his voice raspy.

"What the hell did you do?" Meta said, rushing to Dark's side and surveying him more closely. There was a definite feverish flush to his pale skin, and his eye was hazy.

"Nothing, aside from catching the Nova-damned Mirror Pox. Don't worry, you can't get it," Dark explained, laying back in the bed. Meta pressed the back of his hand to Dark's forehead and was alarmed at how warm the man's usually cool skin was.

"That does not explain why you are in my bed," Meta said.

"Like I said, _you_ can't catch it but any Mirror-Worlder can. I can't risk infecting everyone in my castle," Dark huffed.

"So you just decided to sneak into my room?" Meta said, giving Dark a flat look.

"I _thought_ my dear boyfriend might be willing to help me out…" Dark groused, pressing himself further into the pillows behind him. Meta rolled his eyes.

"I would just prefer a heads up. I assume that medications fail to affect you?" he asked, grabbing his phone from his cape. Dark shifted a little and presented a bottle of silvery liquid.

"This is the only thing that'll work for this. Re-silvering tonic," he said.

"Re-silvering…? Oh, of course. Black spots on mirrors," Meta said, typing on his phone. Dark tried to peer at it without moving.

"Poetic, isn't it? Anyway, what're you doing?" he asked.

"Asking Dee to bring you some soup, as I am certain that you would rather not have me prepare it," Meta said, putting his phone back into his cape.

"Not to insult your cooking skills, but yeah I'd rather someone else make it," Dark chuckled, fidgeting with his bottle of medicine. Meta sat on the edge of the bed, and he gently grasped one of Dark's hands, rubbing his thumb over it.

"How are you feeling?" he asked. Dark curled his fingers around Meta's.

"Awful. I'd shatter myself to get rid of it, but the pox stays with you through reforming," he whined.

"Is there anything to do that can alleviate your symptoms?" Meta asked, and the sincerity in his tone made Dark's heart flutter a little. He offered the bottle again.

"If you could help rub this over the spots, I'd really appreciate it. I've been too exhausted to keep up with it," Dark said. Meta took the bottle and inspected it. It was made of blue glass and had labeling that was just like any other medication.

"Alright," he said, unscrewing the top. It had a dropper, and Meta looked curiously at the liquid within the glass pipette. It was like a liquified mirror, and Meta stared transfixed for a moment.

"Just drop it over the spots and rub it in. It'll run, so be careful," Dark directed. Meta carefully placed a few drops over the spots on Dark's face before recapping the bottle and setting it on the nearby nightstand. The medicine looked like beads of mercury on Dark's face.

"It is certainly unique in appearance," Meta commented, rubbing the liquid into the spots with a gentle hand. His eyes widened as he watched the spots fade under his touch, and he continued until all the spots on Dark's face had faded to where they were barely visible.

"That feels so much better," Dark sighed, moving to unbutton his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Meta asked. Dark gave him a flat look as he sat up and finished unbuttoning his shirt.

"The spots aren't just on my face, you know," he said, pulling the garment off. True to his word, the same black spots were scattered about on his torso. Meta grabbed the bottle off the nightstand and put a few drops on his fingers, setting to work on a dense cluster of spots by Dark's collarbone.

"Do these itch?" Meta asked idly, rubbing the medication in. Dark sighed heavily.

"Horribly, but scratching will only make it worse," he huffed. Meta steadily worked the tonic into Dark's skin, watching closely as the spots faded. Dark was visibly relaxing and leaning into his touch.

"It seems as if the tonic is alleviating the itch somewhat," Meta commented.

"Oh Nova yes, it makes a world of difference," Dark purred. Meta finished up and wiped the remaining medicine off his fingers onto Dark. He then leaned back and looked over Dark.

"If I am correct in my assumption, there is no part of you spared from the illness?" Meta asked. Dark shrugged and started to shuffle out of his pants, noting Meta's flushed cheeks.

"It's nothing you haven't seen, you prude," he teased. Dark fully slid out of his pants and set them aside, and Meta noted the man's boxer shorts with mild surprise.

"Ah, I assumed that you would be wearing something more risqué," he quipped. Dark gave him a narrow-eyed look as he leaned back, the spots starkly evident on his legs.

"I'm not in the mood for anything risqué," Dark groaned. Meta looked up at him from where he was dropping more of the medicine on his legs, an expression of mock surprise on his face.

"That is a first," Meta teased, setting to work on Dark's legs.

"Ha ha, you are truly a comedic genius. Look, it's hard to have any libido when you're covered in itchy black spots," Dark drawled.

"I am honestly shocked that even this can stop you," Meta said, moving down the leg.

"It's really the fever. It makes me feel like death," Dark sighed. They fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes as Meta tended to Dark's legs, with Dark growing steadily more relaxed as he went. He again wiped away the excess tonic and looked up at Dark.

"Anywhere else?" Meta asked.

"I don't have spots on my dick, if that's what you're asking. But there's some on my hip," Dark said, pulling the hem of his boxers down enough to reveal another cluster of spots. Meta chuckled as he applied the tonic to the cluster.

"You must be feeling better if you are back to constantly bringing up your genitals," he teased, finishing and recapping the bottle. He handed it back to Dark.

"The itching is gone at least, but the damn fever hasn't gone down yet," Dark huffed. There was a knock at the door, and Meta stood.

"Cover yourself," he said, and Dark quickly wriggled his way beneath the covers. He then answered the door and spoke briefly with the person there before returning with a tray. Meta waited for Dark to settle before presenting him with the tray.

"That was fast," Dark said. The tray had a steaming bowl of soup and a large glass of orange juice along with a bread roll.

"It is from a can," Meta replied. Dark shrugged and picked up the spoon.

"Anything sounds fine right now as long as it's warm," he said, spooning out some of the noodles and blowing on them. Dark made quick work of the soup and the roll and set the tray aside as he sipped at the juice. Meta eyed him.

"Does vitamin C even make a difference for you?" he asked. Dark shrugged.

"No, but it's refreshing," he said. He downed the beverage quickly and set the glass aside, sliding back down under the covers. He shifted to look at Meta. "Can you stay here?" Dark asked, giving Meta a heart wrenching look. Meta sighed and stood from the bed, causing Dark to sadden for a moment before he began to remove his armor.

"It is somewhat early, but I suppose it cannot hurt to remain here," Meta said. It took several minutes for him to remove his armor and get into his sleepwear, and Dark watched intently the whole time. Meta's body was a thing of beauty to him, all lithe muscle dotted with various scars. "What is it?" Meta asked, pulling on his shirt.

"Just enjoying the show," Dark quipped, causing Meta to roll his eyes. He turned off the lights and slid into his bed as Dark shifted over a little to allow him more room. A pair of small but strong arms pulled Dark against Meta, and Dark could feel the other man's warmth radiating out over his back.

"I am glad that it is not contagious to me," Meta muttered. Dark let his eyes slide shut and grinned.

"I'm glad too," he replied. Meta gently kissed the back of Dark's neck and nuzzled against him, closing his eyes. He would only allow a select few to see this softer side of him, and Dark was on that short list. Sleep quickly overtook both of them, and they slept soundly through the night, the worries of the day forgotten within peaceful dreams.

 _(Just a quick little fic inspired by how old mirrors get those annoying black spots on them.)_


End file.
